


I Will

by peripety



Category: Kings
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-16
Updated: 2011-04-16
Packaged: 2017-10-18 03:44:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/184615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peripety/pseuds/peripety
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This story takes place before Jack's deployment to the Gath/Gilboa border war</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Will

"Be careful, Joseph. He isn't like anyone else."

Joseph's expression remained impassive as Reverend Samuels spoke, blue eyes resting on the minister. He wasn't sure if the Reverend meant his words as warning or reminder.

They were, perhaps, as companions, an odd combination. Yet once a month they met in this restaurant on the outermost fringes of Port Prosperity, using it in place of the church Joseph had politely but firmly refused to enter since his fourteenth birthday. From that first refusal the Reverend had, in turn, insisted that he could minister to those under his spiritual care in any place; and he would count Joseph among his flock, regardless of scripture or society or Joseph's own distance from the God who could not love him as He had made him.

"Your God is ironic," Joseph observed instead of responding to the warning, one finger running absently along the curve of the spoon where it rested on the unblemished white cloth. He had always thought so, from the time he had realized he was made differently from his brothers and cousins. He had never hidden his sexuality come what may, be it hate, ridicule, or alienation. His bewildered parents loved but did not understand him. His business associates pretended not to notice. His minister did not condemn or condone. And his lover...

His lover hid in the shadows, shrouding himself in a darkness so thick it was nearly impenetrable. Sometimes Joseph feared Jack would lose himself inside the dark and never find his way free.

"He is a mystery," the Reverend agreed in sideways fashion to Joseph's assessment of the God of all. How could he not agree? The nature of his Lord baffled as much as blessed, even him. "But it is not God I speak of, Joseph, it is of God's hand."

Joseph's lashes swept down, his finger pausing its random movement as he thought of God's wrath on earth embodied within a man, a king, a father, a formidable and merciless dictator whose reach was long and ways ruthless.

"He doesn't know. How could he?" Joseph said, sure that he and his lover had been beyond careful, always. The Reverend was the only one privy to the fact that Joseph Lasile and Jack Benjamin, Prince of Shiloh, were lovers.

"No, I don't think he knows - not about you, in specific," the Reverend agreed with a slight nod. "But do not underestimate his reach. Or his wrath, Joseph."

Conversation halted as they were served, thick country-style broth ladled into the shallow pottery bowls, hearty and fragrant. When in the great city of Shiloh Joseph missed such fare, a reminder of youth and a more carefree time. Joseph picked up the spoon and dipped it into the bowl, the broth warm and rich as rested on his tongue before he swallowed.

"I don't," Joseph assured of his wary respect for the King's power and fury. "And I - and we - both know he allows no margin for carelessness." A trace of bitterness, a rare thing in Joseph. He had a rare gift for acceptance of what was, and not of what he wished to be, unlike Jack who yearned and suffered and seethed and plotted against God and fate and man and all things that thwarted his wants and ambitions.

"Anyway, it doesn't matter anymore," Joseph said with a calmness that denied the existence of the empty hole in his gut when he thought of Jack and the distance forming between them. "He finally convinced his father to overrule the Queen. He's been assigned to the front. He leaves within the week." Jack, Joseph knew, would leave him without good-byes, with no words spoken. But expectation did not lessen the sting of being put aside by the one he loved above reason or sense.

"I know," the Reverend said simply, but his dark eyes were filled with the knowledge of prices paid as they met Joseph's.

Joseph felt his throat muscles tighten at what he saw in Samuel's wise, dark eyes, making the words he spoke next soft and slightly raspy. "It always comes back to proving to his father - to the _King_ \- that he has no peer among the brave and strong." With effort, Joseph spoke evenly without again giving voice to the bitterness he felt inside on behalf of Jack. The world might know Jack as the "party prince" but Joseph had seen what lay beneath that facade. It was miraculous any goodness survived in Jack given an upbringing that had doled out royal entitlement and unrelenting criticism in equal measures, but Joseph had glimpsed it in unexpected, offhand moments, tiny jewels shining when Jack forgot his guard.

"And proving such to himself," the Reverend replied as his eyes rested on the bravest man _he_ knew, though Joseph would never place himself in such a category. "And he has ambition. He wants to be King."

"I know that, too." And knew, also, what that would mean to him, should Jack achieve his burning ambition to rule Gilboa from the glittering spires of Shiloh to the wild borderlands with Gath.

With that thought, the meal lost its flavor and Joseph left his spoon to rest in the bowl, turning his head to look outside towards a line of low hills, beyond which lay the border, long and bitterly contested. Joseph knew the commander Jack was and the fierce loyalty and respect his men had for him; and the difference his presence could make, even in this interminable war. But that didn't make it any easier for Joseph to reconcile to the idea of Jack facing such peril. Bullets and mortars might kill a prince as indiscriminately as a commoner. And, for the first time in his life, Joseph felt real fear creep into his life.

Joseph's bleak eyes turned back towards Reverend Samuel and his thoughts emerged as thready words that he choked off before the last of them could be spoken. "I could wish him not a prince but then would he still be the person whom I --?"

 _Love._

That word he left unspoken, silent upon his lips. As silently as he had always kept it within his own heart.

***

The drive back into Shiloh was long, made longer when a cavalcade of tanks and supply trucks and troop transports crossed the highway in a long, rumbling column that idled the traffic stream Joseph was in for what seemed hours. _Jack could be in one of those trucks,_ Joseph thought, his eyes bleak as he watched the military might roll by, bound for the front. "Jack," he whispered, watching the last transport roll away until a horn sounded behind him, returning his attention to the road and his own trip home. His eyes felt gritty as they watched the tarmac and he kept his hands tight on the wheel, concentrating on controlling the emotional turmoil inside.

The heavy traffic followed him back to Shiloh so that by the time Joseph wearily parked his car dusk was giving way to night, the moon rising behind the tower that dominated the middle of the city. Before entering his apartment building Joseph's gaze lingered upon it, though of course he knew that Jack wasn't there but miles away, going towards war. Still, Unity Hall was the ultimate symbol of the royal family and King Silas' achievement, a monument to his strength and dominion over his people. Those people included even Joseph, standing as he did in obscure shadow, well away from royal attention of any kind. It also served as a constant reminder of Jack even when Joseph did his best to put the prince out of his mind. How could he forget, with that glittering thing as a constant reminder? Ready to fall back into brooding, Joseph turned away and headed inside.

The apartment was in darkness when Joseph entered, lit only by the rising moon as he took the key from the lock, closing the door and turning the deadbolt before reaching to turn on the lamp on his desk. Before he could splash the room with light he was seized from behind. His instinctive defense was quickly, easily countered by his assailant, a struggle over before it could begin. He was instantly flooded with the realization that his confidence in the depth of his hiding shadow had been false, as worthless as the words he'd spoken to the Reverend hours earlier, only a fool's belief. Awash with equal parts of panicked resistance and inevitable defeat a part of Joseph still could wonder how Reverend Samuels would eulogize him, a man killed by order of the King the minister served; a king, a father, who had somehow pierced the shadow Joseph had thought so concealing. His attacker held him tight, bound by strong arms and fear, and Joseph braced for the cold strike of the assassin's blade.

"Where have you been?" a voice hissed in his ear. It took a moment for the familiarity of that voice to sink in past the panic, but when it did Joseph slumped against the body behind him and he took a shaken breath before wrenching away to face the man who shouldn't be here.

"For god's sake, Jack!" Joseph hissed, annoyed and relieved, so relieved. "How the hell did you get in here?"

In response Jack dangled a shiny key to glint in the moonlight, one that Joseph knew damn well he'd never given the prince. Jack's grin was reckless, boyish, a flash of white teeth in the darkness that Joseph saw as his eyes adjusted to the muted light of the room. "Where have you been?" Jack repeated the question he'd first asked and his truculent tone made certain where he put the blame for having been left idling, alone. "I've been here a fucking hour, waiting, Joseph."

"Port Prosperity," Joseph replied as if not noticing the hints of aggression in Jack's voice and in the lines of his tall, lean body. Joseph's pulses were still racing, but not now from panic as his eyes lingered on Jack. Even half-hidden in shadow, he took in hungrily the sight of his lover clad all in black like the assassin he'd pretended to be. "Jack, what are you doing here?"

"Prosperity!" snorted Jack softly rather than answering, his tone revealing his thoughts on what to him was a backwater district. "Don't tell me you were visiting the old family home?"

"Reverend Samuels, actually," Joseph told him. He let the keys he held fall onto the desk, reaching for the lamp once more, but again Jack stopped him, this time with a light touch on the back of his hand.

"Don't put it on," he requested, with less tension than he'd spoken with before. Close again to the familiar scent and warmth of Jack's body, Joseph wondered how he'd ever managed to mistake the man for someone else, even for a moment. Jack was an indelible imprint on him and only by strength of will did Joseph keep himself from pressing close. In spite of his lover's unexpected appearance, Joseph was wary of the intent. He wasn't naive. Jack could be as capricious and vicious as the wind and this sudden appearance could mean...anything.

"Samuels? That superstitious old fool?" Jack jeered at the King's spiritual adviser before circling back to answer Joseph's question. Jack's fingers slid up Joseph's arm to his neck, threading among the short hairs that curled along the nape. Joseph shivered, almost involuntarily, and even in the dark Joseph could see the gleam of satisfaction on Jack's face and eyes at the response to his touch. "There was some fuck-up with the equipment for my unit. Deployment's been pushed back another forty-eight hours. So here I am," Jack told Joseph, his voice soft, almost light. His eyes were dark in the muted shadows, the blue lost in the gloom. His voice sank to a whisper. "Joseph. Take off your clothes."

"I didn't think I'd see you before you left," Joseph said instead of leaping to obey the directive. This was in spite of the throbbing that began deep inside his body at Jack's words. By the shifting dart of Jack's eyes Joseph knew he'd been right in guessing that Jack had had no intention of making this - or any - visit here before leaving for the front. _Then why had he come?_ Joseph wondered, not taken in by the obvious reasons that involved flesh and sweat and rapture. Jack was rarely obvious, having inherited deviousness from both King and Queen in full measure. Ulterior motives were his second nature.

"Clothes. Off." Jack ordered again gruffly, equal parts Major and Prince in his tone of command and his expectation of obedience.

Joseph slid off his jacket, letting it fall to the floor but his eyes were clear on Jack's, conveying that he did so because _he_ wanted to and not because he was so easily ordered about like one of Jack's minions. And given the faint glimmer of a smile that crossed Jack's mouth, Joseph saw he got the silent message only to be amused by it instead of annoyed.

His shirt was next, and as Joseph let it follow his jacket to the floor Jack reached out a hand and drew a line down the slender length of his chest, following the smooth lines and curves until impeded by the thin leather belt threaded through the belt loops of Joseph's trousers. Jack splayed his hand over Joseph's belly, warm and heavy and obviously waiting for Joseph to finish unfastening, unzipping, a silent, urging weight. Joseph toed off his shoes before flexing his hips and thighs, pushing off pants and underwear in one motion.

The moon had risen enough, now, to bathe Joseph's bare flesh in pale yellow light, a slender, glowing figure of a man. Jack's hand moved, curling around Joseph's cock as it curved slightly away from his body, telling Jack all he needed to know about how much Joseph already wanted this, wanted him.

When Jack spoke his voice was a whisper in the dark. "Will you miss me when I'm gone, Joseph? Will it matter to you if I don't make it home?"

For a moment Joseph felt like Jack had just slid home an assassin's blade, a knife wrought from his deepest, darkest, most haunting fear, driven deeply enough to expel the breath from his body and shake his composure. Joseph's hands came up, clutching at Jack's arms as his body swayed, shaken to the core. "God! Don't even say that, Jack!" Joseph grated looking into Jack's eyes. "Don't even think it! You'll be home and it will be just like it was before." He pressed his naked body close against Jack's, regretting they weren't skin-on-skin, but unwilling to let go to remedy that.

"Everything's changing, Joe. I can feel it, somehow, like one of my father's fucking premonitions," Jack whispered and Joseph felt his breath warm against his ear, his lips moving against his skin. His words were spoken with almost a reluctance to them, as if not meant to be said out loud, but something was driving Jack tonight, that was clear. "It's slipping away. Nothing will be the same."

'Jack." Joseph shivered and his grip on Jack tightened, as if to ward off all that would separate them. Unbidden, a confession tumbled from his lips. "Jack, I lo--"

"Don't say it!" Jack's voice was grating, almost vicious, cutting off Joseph before the admission could be spoken, his hand sealing across Joseph's mouth to prevent him from speaking as the prince's mood turned quickly from longing and regret to angry determination. "Just don't!"

"Not saying it won't make it any less true," Joseph said, undettered, his own blue eyes flashing as he jerked his head away from Jack's hand. He stepped back, bending to pick up his shirt and slip it back on but Jack seized his wrist, stopping him.

"Don't bother. The bedroom. Now," Jack ordered Joseph.

Joseph tried to jerk his hand free but Jack's grip tightened, bruisingly so. "Fuck you, Jack," he flared back with uncharacteristic anger as he stood slim and defiant in the moonlight. He saw Jack's eyes skate down over his body and back up again and rued the evidence of his continued arousal. Joseph could order Jack to leave but Jack would know he wanted otherwise, damn him.

"I can take you here on the floor if that's what you want," Jack said and began yanking out of his own clothes.

Anger left Joseph as quickly as it had come. It was foreign to his nature and impossible to maintain; as much as allowing genuine emotion to rise to the surface was foreign to Jack's. Of course it would be easier for Jack to reduce what was between them to sex, plain and unadorned, but Joseph believed he and Jack had moved beyond _simple_ long ago in spite of their tacit agreement to leave it unacknowledged. And he knew, also, it was given to him to be the one to shift the volatile mood. Without a word, Joseph turned and walked to the bedroom. Here the moonlight streamed in through slatted blinds, casting broad stripes across the sheets and over his skin when he lay down upon them.

Looking up, Joseph took in the sight of Jack's naked body as the prince came to stand in the doorway, in the same way Jack's eyes lingered on the lines of Joseph's form. Though they were only a year or so different in age Joseph looked younger, his slender body lacking the tough, hard-muscled definition that the prince's military service had bestowed. But in spite of any outward appearance sometimes Joseph felt much, much older than his lover and this was one of those times.

"Jack. Don't be angry," Joseph said, his voice not quite even as he thought, _God. Not now. Not what could be the last time they would ever be together if fate and God were cruel._

"I'm not," Jack spoke almost on a sigh before moving from his stance in the doorway, coming to stretch himself on the bed next to Joseph. His fingers traced one of the stripes of light as it crossed Joseph's belly. He met Joseph's eyes directly, promising quietly, "I'm not."

They kissed, mouths brushing softly at first but the slight pressure wasn't enough and lips and tongues turned quickly to hunger. They came together with fierceness and unspoken desperation. And if Joseph's heart broke, a little, it didn't stop his body from exulting in the promise of Jack's hands as they curved over his hips and ass. Limbs tangling, Joseph's lips slid across Jack's skin, biting, licking, seeking out every curve to taste and linger over, committing to memory every sensation.

They were familiar lovers and as the initial tempo slowed their hands and mouths found with intimate knowledge the familiar points to draw out an illicit sigh or moan, or to make the other writhe in the moonlight. There was tenderness in the urgency because Joseph was made that way as much as there was roughness because, for Jack, there was no other way of being. Slipping down on the bed, Joseph took Jack in his mouth as deeply as he could, humming in satisfaction as Jack's hips bucked up, driving his cock against the warmth of Joseph's lips and tongue; as if, for the prince, this was a rare moment of letting go of control in favor of falling headlong into pleasure without regard to consequence. Consumed as Joseph was by the moment it was Jack who pulled them back from a dangerous brink. His hands on the back of Joseph's head tangled into the strands and tugged with stinging force.

"Enough, Joseph, enough. _Joe,_ enough," Jack gasped insistently, not stopping until Joseph reluctantly allowed Jack to slip free from his lips. Joseph raised his head, his eyes blind and dark, lips glistening with spit and the leak of pre-come and it took seconds for Joseph to sink back into himself and awareness of what Jack wanted. _"Oh."_ Gulping for breath Joseph's eyes focused on Jack's face, flushed and taut, but Joseph wasn't allowed more than a moment before, "Over," Jack insisted with voice and hands, pushing at Joseph's shoulders to urge him to turn on his side. Jack snatched up the lube from the nightstand, fumbling and swearing as he made a dripping mess by squeezing too hard the first time.

"Amateur," Joseph whispered teasingly, looking at Jack from over his shoulder until their eyes met and Jack reluctantly grinned back.

"I'll show you _amateur,_ smartass," Jack muttered looking almost sheepish before landing a stinging slap on Joseph's hip. "Stop distracting me or I'll never get this done and you'll be the one getting the rough ride."

Undeterred, Joseph urged, "Come inside, Jack," more than once, impatient with the rushed prep of Jack's fingers. So what if his body wasn't quite ready for that first breach? He gasped and told Jack not to stop, doing all he could to force his body to relax and ride out the initial burning resistance. And once that moment was conquered all that was left was exquisite sensation. Their bodies moved in rhythm with the sighs and broken words of pleasure that fell into the silence of the moonlit room. If Joseph twisted his shoulders enough he could just meet Jack's lips, sharing kisses that were, for him, like sips of wine. He moaned and twisted as Jack pushed into him, aiming to coast over the sweet spot that made Joseph shiver and shake and not be ashamed to beg his lover for more. Their hips met and came apart, sweat and spit mingled on their skin and on their tongues. It was a little slice of heaven on earth, sweeter than anything Joseph had ever known. But it wasn't something meant to last, not when the powerful storm of need and want continued to grow. Jack's hips began pushing in faster and harder which in turn incited Joseph's hand to move on his own cock with equal force, pushing towards release. On fire, he was seized with trembling and an arrow of pleasure so fierce it made him cry out even while Jack pounded into him and towards his own orgasm.

Joseph was still trying to find a way to breathe evenly when Jack collapsed, spent, laying half on top of him. With a grunt Joseph found himself crushed into the yielding mattress with lungs kept airless. Twisting, he managed to turn over but Jack kept entangling him with long sweaty limbs until he gave up the struggle, letting Jack lay sprawled half on top. "What's your problem, Lasile?" Jack muttered, pillowing his face against Joseph's chest and not letting go.

"Breathing?" Joseph proposed, whimsical and mundane and he felt Jack huff out an amused breath.

"Overrated." he was told as Jack, unconcerned and unmoving, was apparently content to remain just where he was.

Giving up on the notion of unrestricted lungs Joseph let his hand weave into Jack's hair, stroking through the damp, silky strands as they clung to his fingers. Eyes closing, he drifted into a place that was not quite sleep, his body spent with pleasure and at peace. He didn't know how much time had passed when he heard from somewhere in the distance the deep toll of church bells, a reluctant reminder of the world that existed beyond them.

"Yes, I will," he murmured.

"Yes?" Roused, Jack repeated the words he thought Joseph had sighed near his ear. "You will, what?"

"I never answered your question before: Yes. I will miss you, Jack." Joseph whispered and tightened his grasp around Jack's shoulders.

After a moment Jack raised his head and looked into Joseph's eyes for a long moment. Bending, he brushed a kiss across Joseph's lips in silent acknowledgment. He shifted, drawing Joseph with him until Joseph rested against his side.

"When do you have to go?" Joseph asked in spite of not wanting to hear the answer.

"Soon."

 _And perhaps forever._

***

 _Soon_ came when a cool dawn began to paint the horizon with a hint of dusty pink that glimmered along the edge of the cityscape beyond Joseph's window. In the streets below Joseph's apartment the lamps still glowed with yellow light but here and there a taxi made a slow journey through the deserted lanes. Sitting up, watching Jack dress, Joseph's tongue felt thick in his mouth, unable to form words. Not that there were any words he could speak that would alter what was to come. This could well be the last time he would ever see Jack and yet he was not allowed to say what was in his heart. He wasn't allowed to cling to the hope of phone calls or emails. He wasn't allowed to show how much he hurt. Moisture stung, hot, at the back of his eyes, and he blinked it away. He wasn't allowed tears, either.

"Joseph."

Looking up as Jack said his name Joseph remained still, sitting on the edge of the bed with the sheet tangled around his legs, his eyes wide and glittering in the darkness as he stared up at his lover. Stepping closer, Jack touched Joseph's cheek with soft fingertips, lingering for one more moment.

"Yes," Jack whispered. "I will."

Joseph remained still and unmoving on the bed long after the soft close of his apartment door. Jack's scent hovered in the air around him like a haze of evocative remembrance. He wanted to cling to it like he wanted to cling to the reddish marks Jack had left on his skin. Soon, too soon, they would fade, fragile as they were, neither so permanent or so deep as what Jack had left etched on his heart.


End file.
